Beware The Girls You Meet In The Forest (On Hold + Editing)

Prologue

Prologue

My first memory begins with my mother and father. They were lying down next to each other on their bed, which was just grass stuffed into two sheets that were sewn together.

I had heard a sort of slurping sound and figured it had come from their mouths, seeing as to how they're lips were pressed together and their jaw bones were moving. It looked like they were trying to eat each other.

I watched them, trying to figure out what it was that they were doing. They never noticed me watching them. They thought I was sleeping on my bed that was next to theirs.

As they continued to try and eat each other, they slowly started undressing each other. Eventually, they were both naked. They pressed their lips up and down the other's body. On their ears, their necks, their collarbone, their shoulders, down their chest, and then they would retrace their steps.

After doing this several times, their lips met again and my father lifted himself above my mother. He focused on something between his legs, and it looked as if he was guiding whatever it was between my mother's thighs.

I heard my mother release a sound from between her lips and my father silenced her with his. He started to move the bottom portion of his body up and down slowly as he kissed my mother's lips and neck.

He did those motions for a while, and then he stopped. My mother was making sounds that I cannot describe, but it sounded as if she was trying to be quiet. My father stayed in that postion for a moment, and then he pressed his lips to my mother's again.

They had tried to eat each other again for a few moments until they had both fell silent and resumed their even breathing. My father had wrapped his arm around my mother, pulling her close to his body.

The next day, my father had decided it was time I started my 'training', whatever that was. He handed me a rock that was pointed at the tip and tied to a piece of wood. He told me that it was called a knife, and that it would be one of my favorite weapon choices. At the time, I was confused as to what 'weapons' and 'favorites' and 'choices' were, but I quickly learned as my father taught me how to fight and create weapons.

Whenever I was not training with my father, my mother taught me about berries I could eat and how to start fires and build shelter and how to survive like we did at the time. She taught me about people and how they react to experiences, saying it would help me to trick people whenever I needed to.

At the end of each day, my mother and father would kiss me on the forehead and tell me that I would grow up to be the best assassin in the world. I didn't know what 'assassin' meant, but it sounded cool, and I was determined to become the best 'assassin' so I could make my parents proud.